Justified Evil
by Roae
Summary: Just before Thief Bakura attacks the Pharaoh's palace, a man shows up claiming to know the future and how to alter it in Bakura's favor. What are his true motives? Why would he involve someone from the palace? And can Bakura really trust a free gift?
1. Prologue: Sunday Bloody Sunday

A/N: To be honest, the idea for this fic isn't mine. I got it from my brother-in-law, who supported Thief King Bakura and often said that his cause was "the most justified evil I've ever seen." (Hence the name of this fic.) He started writing a story in which ancient versions of ourselves would go help Bakura get vengeance against the Pharaoh. Or so he said.

My brother-in-law turned out to be a lying, cheating, stealing jerk. I'm sure he never actually wrote his story, but what he had told me about it kept running through my mind, with parts I hated and liked, especially the ending that _I_ came up with and _he_ claimed credit for. And I decided to do a little thievery of my own. I'm taking the plot and redoing things _my_ way, saving Bakura's characterization from being destroyed (I hope) and gaining my vengeance against Jimmi within the tale.

Honestly, I greatly dislike OCs, especially in the form of self-insert; however, I can't write this without leaving our two characters in. I am going to try my absolute hardest to not allow either character to become a Mary Sue/Gary Stu, but keep in mind I've never written with OCs before. I greatly appreciate constructive criticism. Flames are... understandable, but greatly UNappreciated.

Two other notes:

1. This will follow the Ancient Egypt arc of the MANGA - Millennium World. I don't like how the anime portrays Bakura. And it doesn't work with this plot anyway.

2. Each chapter will have a song as the title. The lyrics and/or music will have something to do with what's going on in that chapter. Might be interesting to look up. This one is "Sunday Bloody Sunday" by U2.

Okay, I SWEAR those will be the longest author's notes for this fanfic. Now for the prologue. Enjoy!

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Justified Evil Prologue: Sunday Bloody Sunday

_The Egyptian mother and her young son watched his father ride off into the distance, willing to sacrifice all for their country. Her dark eyes held a deep sadness, but the boy's blue ones seemed prematurely calm: he did not fully understand the fact that he would never see that man again... at least, not as his father._

_The Pharaoh stood at the head of his court, his chief wife beside him, cradling in her arms the babe that would one day take over for his father and rule Egypt. The crown prince with the shock of bright hair slept soundly, not realizing that his destiny would also be forever sealed that fateful night._

_Soldiers charged forward under the name of the King, ruthlessly slaughtering the villagers - men, women, and children alike. No one paid any heed to the white-haired child, the sole survivor, taking in every sight with eyes wide in terror and a mind that would forever after be scarred and tormented by this night._

_The entire foreign army was destroyed in one blast, never standing a chance against Egypt's newest weapons borne of shadows. Those left behind, the ones not involved in the fighting, were taken as slaves; including an older boy, who was dragged away kicking and screaming in rage as he watched his brothers die._

_Within the royal city, just outside the palace walls, the youngest child of all began to inconsolably wail._

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A/N: Dunno when the first chapter will be out - I have it written, but might add more to the end. Depends on interest and amount of time I have. (College kid in the middle of an 18-hour semester - agh!) In the meantime, please read and review! =)


	2. Chapter 1: James

A/N: Alrighty, first chapter is here! I'd already had it typed, so it was quick. This one is named after "James" by Blue October. It might seem an odd choice right now, but keep in mind my brother-in-law's name was Jimmi (a.k.a. James). And, well, it's gonna make more sense eventually.

As said before, I'm using the manga for reference in the story. Moreover, while the official English version is good... some things were lost in translation. Hence, I will be using the Japanese spelling for the names, as well as the suffixes, since those are hard to translate without sounding cheezy.

Secondly, this chapter is dedicated to three people: my best friend Joey, for helping to beta read this for me; Fallen Crystal Moon, for giving me my first fave; and scrambled-eggs-at-midnight, for faving, alerting, and giving me my first review! Thanks guys! ^^

Now, onward!

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Chapter 1: James

Seto had come far in his young life, and held his title with pride. None were willing to contend with this one-time commoner, now High Priest - guardian of the court, the Pharaoh, and the sacred Millennium Rod - especially not with the purposeful gleam currently in his cold blue eyes. He was on a mission, and every servant in the Palace had either heard or heard _of _his threats when his plans were interrupted. Needless to say, when he appeared, they scattered like mice.

Though, not everyone was quite so terrified of his more malicious side. There were those of equal or higher status, such as the other Priests, the Pharaoh, and his vizier. And there were the unruly ones. He was reminded of this when he turned a corner, using his long-since-honed skills to make his white linen cape swirl out dramatically behind him. At the same time, his elaborate hat went flying off down the hall.

Seto turned and glared about him, his hand automatically reaching up to his now-exposed brown hair. His eyes quickly settled on the culprits, two girls standing by a pillar as if just coming out of hiding. They were about the same age, and both were obviously not servants; the taller blonde was extravagantly (if inappropriately) dressed and held a short magician's apprentice staff; the brown-haired one, holding out her hands in front of her, was more modest (though still gold bedecked) and obviously more guilty. Though she looked surprised, her grey-blue eyes danced with laughter, and the dropped jaw slowly closed into a grin. "You know I never liked that hat, Seto-sama!" she called, and grabbing the other's wrist, they both ran off.

The young Priest gave a sigh that held a low growl of annoyance and continued on, retrieving his hat along the way. Mahaado's apprentices were certainly unruly, though how much of it was Mana's fault he could not determine. It seemed to him that much of it was Roae's doing, and she dragged her friend into it along the way. Still, he would have to talk to the older magician about both of them; their behavior was not becoming of occupants of the Palace. And at this rate, Roae was going to ruin his royal hat.

He entered a small side room in one of the less-frequented areas of the Palace and turned around to face the door, arms crossed and displaying the Millennium Rod casually in one hand. He did not have long to wait. Shortly, two guards entered the room, and between them, unrestrained but knowing he had no chance to run, was a slave.

This man was tall and intimidating: working for years moving the stone slabs for the Wedju Shrine had made him bulky, yet his blue eyes were as cold and calculating as Seto's. His blond hair was cropped short, almost to the skull, and he wore an open vest and loose pants in the style of his homeland. Seto took all this in with an air of indifference and started calmly. "Your name is Dessel, correct?"

"Yes, sir."

Seto frowned slightly. Contrary to his appearance, the slave's voice was smooth and... well... unsettlingly submissive. Oh well, submissiveness worked better for the Priest's purposes. "I have a proposition for you, Dessel." He paused to give the slave time to react.

"Sir?" Dessel's brow furrowed, seeming confused at the Priest's friendly manner.

Seto gave an almost sneer-like smile. "I've been looking for a person such as yourself. My eyes and ears all over this palace tell me that your work is consistently strong. You are never slow or weak: you always give your best efforts. This has already brought you to the prestigious position of moving our most important magical tablets. You have been a determined and loyal slave; how would you like to finally gain some status in our society?"

Dessel's eyes narrowed further, and he answered slowly, "What exactly are you saying?"

"I am proposing that you leave the life of slavery and become my personal servant. You will no longer take orders from every citizen, doing whatever lowly job they command; you will do my bidding, and my bidding alone. You will perform tasks that are actually challenging, entertaining, and worth your while. You will gain prestige and pride, with my name behind your efforts. And from there... you will be able to move on to an even higher status, gaining power of your own, and become a member of the Egyptian kingdom."

Seto was watching Dessel's face during his short speech, and had been vaguely unsurprised at the growing look of disdain. However, he had been expecting a grudging acceptance of this offer: after all, who would want to continue in slavery with such a wonderful opportunity lying before them?

He had sorely misjudged Dessel's character.

Dessel spat angrily at Seto's feet. The guards on either side of him gasped in shock, but grabbed his arms as he lurched forward, snarling, "I would _never _join this kingdom!" Suddenly his eyes went wide as he realized his mistake - Seto's remarks had hit a sore spot and Dessel let his anger get the better of him. He tried to twist away from his captors, but to no avail; they held tight, not allowing him any closer to the Priest or to escape.

The sudden movement surprised Seto, but a second later his face twisted in indignant rage._ "Imbecile! You will pay for your insolence!"_ he roared.

More guards were quickly arriving at the sound of raised voices, and they grabbed Dessel, who began struggling wildly. "Take him to the dungeons!" Seto ordered, following them into the hall as the guards obliged, dragging the slave away.

Knowing that he had already made his mistake, Dessel allowed himself to succumb to his rage and thrashed wildly against the guards' restraints. _"You killed my family!_"he screamed. "Your kingdom of black magic will fall! _You will pay!_"

In the ringing silence that followed, a startled voice whispered, "S-Seto-sama...?"

Spinning towards the source of the voice, Seto saw the same girl from earlier, her eyes now wide with shock at the spectacle she had just witnessed. She stood looking at him questioningly. _"Roae!" _he snapped. "What are you doing here? How dare you meddle in private Priest business?!"

Her eyes widened further. She knew when it was time to go. "Sorry, sir!" she yelped, then turned and bolted.

~ ~ ~ (Several days later...) ~ ~ ~

Dessel lay shuddering in the corner of the dark dungeon cell. He had not received food or water in days, and had given up on wondering whether they were doing it purposely or if they had simply forgotten about him. His body was no longer functioning; extreme dehydration and starvation had left him nearly immobile and in constant pain. His mind was not doing much better - even in the best of times he could hardly think straight, and more and more often his thoughts were simply drifting aimlessly through old plans and memories. In the clear moments he was morbidly reminded of how people with near-death experiences would say their lives flashed before their eyes, but this was much slower and much more tortuous.

He remembered being a child, and being _happy_, traveling with his brothers in the conquering army. He himself was too young to fight, but it didn't matter: his family was helping to take over the world and they had everything they could ever want. They soon came to Egypt, with a rumor spreading around the army that their leaders were looking for some sort of magic that resided in this country. It started just like every other conquest, with their soldiers advancing steadily and forcing the Egyptians into retreat time after time. It took little more than a week to come upon the Palace... and what seemed like another victory...

_"Look... We were going to build a mountain of corpses, but there are no soldiers guarding the castle! We'll have the throne in no time!" _In his mind's eye, Dessel watched as the army charged what seemed an empty field, coming quickly to the palace gate to find, standing out front, only the Pharaoh and six others. _"What the...?! Seven men?! Is this a joke?! They're sending seven to face our whole army?!"_

_Then, the glow of the Millennium Items... and soon a greater glow... and the shock and fear in the soldiers' faces as the great monsters arrived... then the flash of light..._

Dessel snapped awake again and managed a faint groan of pain. Too many times now he had relived the horrible destruction and what followed, an existence too miserable to even think about. Thus had begun his life as a slave of the Egyptian empire, caring for the very monsters who had taken everything away from him. As much as he fought it, he kept slipping in and out of these hallucinations, and the harsh reality was that, without food or water, he had no strength to resist.

As he fell into unconsciousness again, he saw the Palace and prepared himself for another vision of the attack from the monsters, but before long he realized that something was different this time. It took his hazy mind a moment, but he soon recognized the _inside _of the Palace, the courtyards crowded with Egyptian soldiers, the leaders of the army, and their families. Dessel had witnessed scenes like this before, and would have dismissed it as yet another memory, but something was strange, something he could not quite put his finger on.

Then suddenly, the realization - this was the Egyptian army _before _they had fought with his own. Without being sure whether he recognized the soldiers that he had seen on the battlefield or what, all of a sudden, he just knew. _'These aren't my memories.'_

And one of the leaders... He was much younger, but it was undoubtably Akunadin, the High Priest of the Millennium Eye - _before _he had the Eye, and when he still had a family, a wife and son... a very young boy, brown-haired, blue-eyed - _Seto?__ Seto is Akunadin's son?' _Confused, Dessel briefly considered the times he had seen the two Priests interact. _'Seto can't know that... He's never acted that way...'_

The visions jumped. Later that night, in the ruins of a small village, many dead and dying lay strewn in the streets. Hidden in a back alley was the only person not caught by the soldiers: a small boy, younger by a few years than Dessel had been when he saw his own family killed. The white-haired child sat staring silently forward, breathing in the short, harsh breaths of shock and miraculously still going unnoticed by the army working in the surrounding streets.

The soldiers carried the freshly-slaughtered bodies into an underground temple, where Akunadin and a few select others were performing a shadow alchemy of great power. A cauldron boiled the human flesh, and magic - _heka_ - transformed the results into gold; a track guided it into a stone mold, and when the cover was lifted...

_i'The Millennium Items...'/i_

Dessel was shocked, but at the same time, he was not. He had known for all of his life that this empire was cruel, and it was almost exhilarating to him to see clear evidence of the fact - not to mention another victim of it. That child, the sole survivor... He may be the key to every revenge that Dessel had ever planned...

The visions continued, sometimes jumping around again in time, but all eventually heading in the same direction. For hours, maybe even days, Dessel endured the scenes of destruction, mixed with other things he did not understand. There was his own childhood, and that of Seto and the white-haired boy, plus a little from the current Pharaoh and a commoner girl that at first seemed to have no place in all of it. As the visions moved forward, he saw the girl take her place in the Palace, brought there for "great magical potential" though she had trouble proving it; he also saw Seto forgetting he ever had a father, and rising through the ranks to gain power in his own right; he saw the Prince receiving royal training to become King, though not quickly enough as his father fell ill and died, forcing him to prematurely take the throne; and more than anything, he saw the white-haired boy following the legacy of the village he had come from, and quickly becoming one of the most infamous tomb robbers in Egypt.

Seto, oblivious to his family ties within the Palace, became one of the most powerful High Priests - though his air of supremacy and arrogance prevented him from becoming as powerful as he could have been, especially in the eyes of the young King.

The reluctant young Pharaoh on the throne, however, did not even realize his _own_ potential: while attempting to rule his people with kindness and fairness (though it did nothing to improve Dessel's distrust of his family), behind him there was a dark, untapped power that most could only dream of.

The infamous thief desecrated tomb after tomb with ease, never giving the traps or the guards even the slightest chance to catch him; yet all the while the thirst for vengeance was beginning to take control, and a reckless plot to overthrow the kingdom began to form.

The enslaved Dessel's loyalty and work ethics, although twisted, helped him to come out of the lowliest jobs to be one of the highest-ranking slaves - there was a strange parallel between his life and Seto's - unfortunately, the slave's life seemed to be heading towards an early end.

The commoner girl, through a random outburst of strength, was apprenticed to the High Priest Mahaado, and the belief in her gaining the ability to control those outbursts allowed her to stay within the Palace - though _only_ that belief kept her there, for the majority's discrimination left her still feeling like a lowly commoner.

Dessel's strange visions eventually exhausted their information of the past. As he came back to the present, he simply saw each person as they were now: the tomb robber, acting out the final moments before he began his personal war; the Pharaoh, young and uncertain but willing to risk anything to protect his people; the High Priest, his arrogance hiding his kind heart and fierce loyalty to the throne; the magician's apprentice, just as kind but nursing a wounded ego; and himself, an insignificant slave feeling his life slip away in the Palace dungeons.

Yet... strangely... the visions did not stop. He saw the thief launch an attack on the Palace that certainly had never happened - it was not possible to cover up that much damage. Thus started a fierce war, wherein giant monsters battled and the Millennium Items flashed as the thief and the Pharaoh fought with everything in their power while Seto came from another direction to protect the throne-...

... What happened to him and the magician's apprentice...? He decided that with his impending death and her unstable control over heka, they must have been too powerless to change the tide of battle. But then why did they hold a prominent part in the visions in the first place...?

More structured and cohesive than his visions of the past, the future unfolded before him, coming ever more fast and powerful. He saw the thief's desperate vengeance - and the pharaoh's resistance to his vendetta - he saw the struggle - the destruction - pain - death -...

His immobile body felt as if he endured every blow as the visions battered at his mind in so quick of a succession that the pain began to blend together in one constant torture, and as the wounds reached the point that the characters in his visions began to die, he let out a scream of agony -...

The rock ceiling of his dungeon shattered with a resounding crash, rousing him from his visions as from a nightmare. Shuddering and exhausted, he looked up to see-...

~ ~ ~ (And later still...) ~ ~ ~

Outside of the tomb, it was strangely quiet. No footsteps, no rustle of small animals could be heard; only the occasional shuffling of the riderless horse that stood nearby. Yet upon closer inspection, a form could be picked out in the dark night against the rock: the motionless body of a guard.

Slowly, from within the tomb, there came the gentle ringing of gold and a flicker of torchlight... a swish of red cloth, the ghostlike shimmer of white hair... and then a burst of cocky laughter.

The thief strode confidently out of the tomb, carrying what seemed like an impossible amount of gold and dragging behind him the remains of the tomb's occupant. He automatically glanced around as he reached open air, but his careless, hubristic grin proved that he was not expecting any interruption. Coming to the horse, he slung the grave goods over its back with practiced ease – the horse was used to such weight by now and was not bothered by it – before leaping onto its back himself.

"Hello, Bakura."

The horse reared. With a snarl, Bakura threw himself forward against its back, grabbing the reins and counterbalancing himself to keep from falling off. After a moment of awkward, two-legged stumbling and frightened neighing, the horse finally put all four hooves back on the ground and Bakura managed to guide it to turn, facing the source of their start.

As the horse continued to fidget, the thief glanced quickly over the man standing before him, but his critical glare faltered slightly as he realized that this man was not a guard as the thief was expecting. Eyes narrowed and brows furrowed in anger - and perhaps a little curiosity - he snapped, "Who are you?"

Dessel's state had dramatically improved in the days since his imprisonment; while recovery was slow and his face and body still showed signs of malnutrition, he had a good deal of his old strength back, and all of his cunning. He matched Bakura's gaze with one of his own, studying the corporeal version of the white-haired thief. "Just as impressive as in my visions," he mused cryptically, not quite answering Bakura's question, and not giving him time to respond to this hint before continuing, "I have a proposition for you, Bakura."

Bakura's initial irritation at the ignorance was quickly replaced with a smirk. "For me? Really…"

Dessel matched his grin with one of his own, answering, "I know what you're planning." In return, the thief gave a small, derisive snort.

"And how would you know that?"

"I've seen your future."

The thief frowned at this second cryptic prompt, and his mind immediately went to the powers of the Items. He glanced more scrutinizingly over Dessel, taking note of what little jewelry the man wore. "It's a woman who holds the Tauk."

Dessel shook his head slightly, still smirking. "My visions are not by the power of the Millennium Tauk, but by my own power. However, your own knowledge has already proven some of their accuracy: you're after the Millennium Items, aren't you?"

Bakura's grin returned. "If you're trying to prove something, I'm not impressed." Jabbing his thumb over his shoulder at the treasure behind him, he continued. "It can easily be deduced that I steal gold, and the Millennium Items are made of gold, are they not?"

"Not quite. I saw how they were created." All traces of amusement left the thief's face, and his eyes narrowed dangerously. Dessel knew immediately that he had once again made a mistake, and he had to recover before Bakura decided he was no longer worthwhile and left... or worse. "Yes, Bakura, I've seen your past, as well your future. I know that you'll challenge the Pharaoh and his Priests for the Items, and…" He paused a moment, carefully choosing his words. "You were one man standing against the most powerful people in Egypt. While you got further than anyone else ever could, you ultimately failed."

"You're proposing to help me change my future."

Startled slightly by the blunt statement, Dessel took Bakura's cold expression to mean that he, too, needed to be as succinct as possible. "... Yes."

"And what would you be getting out of it?"

Dessel shrugged slightly. "I, too, have a grudge against this empire. All I want is to see it fall… by whose hands doesn't matter. I just need to see that it actually happens, and I'll help anyone who also has that goal. You're the best candidate."

Bakura stared a moment, before his lips twitched into a smirk. After a moment he threw his head back and burst into wild laughter. "You're simply going to hand me the power to rule Egypt – to rule the _world -_ and ask for nothing in return?!" He tugged on the reins to turn the anxiously-prancing horse away from Dessel, still cackling harshly. "Sorry, but I don't trust free gifts. If I need something, I'll get it myself."

Dessel's eyes narrowed, almost frantic as he saw his opportunity slipping through his fingers. "You don't understand what you're doing!" he snarled. "I've seen it all – without my help, you'll _die! _It'll all be over!"

"Over...?" Bakura glanced back over his shoulder, giving Dessel a more serious look, before his grin slowly returned. "It has only just begun!" Without warning, he nudged his eager horse into a gallop – and at an unseen signal, it kicked Dessel squarely in the chest. With a muffled grunt, he stumbled backwards and sat down heavily on the sand.

He quickly regained the breath to yell after Bakura, "You'll see in the palace tomorrow! Your challenge will be met by the Pharaoh with the God of the Obelisk – and you'll lose!"

The only answer he received was the faint echo of laughter.

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A/N: Now that you've read it and I don't have to worry about spoilers, let me point out what's mine and what isn't.

The backgrounds of the canonical characters (Seto, Bakura, and Pharaoh-boy) and the quotes from the army attacking the Palace came from the manga. The plot of this chapter and the backgrounds for Dessel and Roae were Jimmi's (the brother-in-law that I hate), as was the scene where Dessel and Bakura talk... well. He originally had Bakura agree with Dessel immediately. I protested that idea until Jimmi decided on his own (*cough*) that Bakura wouldn't trust him. The horse kicking Dessel came directly from Jimmi (I loved that idea). Oh, and I do not own YuGiOh, duh. Whew!

A note on names: Jimmi originally named his character Bane, after Darth Bane from the Star Wars saga. I felt that wasn't appropriate, so I did a little research and found out that Darth Bane's real name was Dessel. (So I guess the name isn't mine either. Bah.) He called my character Roae, my nickname... I don't like it because A) that's definitely not an Egyptian name, and B) that's just making the self-insert criticism SO much easier. I think I might change her name... if only the spelling becoming "Roah". Thoughts?

Critiques are GREATLY appreciated. I'm probably too wordy. But my main thing is characterization... that is, after all, one of my main reasons for stealing this fic, since Jimmi had no idea how to portray the characters. Meh.


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